SIMPLE PLEASURES

The only thing better than your own garden, a neighbor with a garden.

Fresh, ripe tomatoes without all the farming work – and you’re doing your neighbor a ‘favor’ by taking all the extra vegetables off their hands.

Top of mind, because ATL friends coming to visit, he apparently now billed as ‘Farmer Dan’, slated to arrive with the season’s first harvest. Which can be a little nerve wracking: Will he just fill the waiting basket My Captor has on the kitchen table, or will he also tell us about the pests he’s repelled, the garden wire he installed, nitrate levels – the challenges of being a ‘gentleman farmer’.

And hopefully not while wearing a straw farmer’s hat and chewing on a piece of hay…

Bringing back memories visiting my corn farming sister – but she adding farmer ‘poor mouthing’: Not enough rain, too much rain, the DH in both leagues- we’re going broke!

Poor mouthing an art form, later working with a friend who poor mouthed a new Mercedes as a ‘small’ one.

But Dan’s tomatoes a reminder: Life’s simple pleasures the best.

Another reminder: Iowa corn the best – ignore the New Jersey sweet corn chatter.

And summer brimming with simple pleasures: morning walks, late afternoon beers on the beach, lots of visitors.

Which is pretty much the rest of our year as well, so just lucky I guess.  

But life’s simple pleasures changing as you age.

As a young boy, all I wanted was legos and an occasional trip to the neighborhood pool. And dinner featuring one of the two things I ate.  

As a teenage boy, all I wanted was a chance to drive the family car, a six pack of beer, and tail – the day I got one of those Davy Crockett hats a big one.

As a young adult, all I wanted was a job, a six pack of beer, and a wife. My Captor my choice, her dowry an entire case of beer – I was a real catch in that Davy Crockett hat!

In middle-age, all I wanted was a loving family – and two or three beers.  

Later, retiring at the beach, My Captor’s life dream. Have I mentioned we’re lucky?

And now that I’m in the ‘on-deck circle of death’, a night where my hip doesn’t wake me at 3A.

But a realization: Simple pleasures morph from material to spiritual – if you’re lucky. 

And how you evaluate what matters morphs as well.

As you accumulate ‘stuff’, you realize ‘stuff’ doesn’t really matter – but admittedly, it’s fun to have ‘stuff’. But its family and friends that matter – as we’ve recently (re)learned.

You’ll never get a birthday card from your new car…

Our treasured interactions with and memories of kids and grandkids sustaining us.

Fortunately, as I age I’m even more easily satisfied – simple pleasures becoming simpler – a Bezos wedding non-invite would have stung the younger me, but I’ll attend the neighborhood’s July 4^th parade and call it even.

And as measure of how ‘easily satisfied’ I am: New underwear! Arrived today from our friends at Amazon – delightful! And I signed the release, which meant I wouldn’t have to order the Days of the Week version – how’s that for adulthood!

But I’ve also learned, if you’re lucky, with age comes patience – a learned skill you can describe to your children, but can’t teach.

A skill enabling you to deal with life’s ups and downs – particularly the downs.

Because today good or bad, patiently sipping a beer at day’s end, looking forward to tomorrow, a gift bag of potential…

For 298 more posts like this –each with a wish for fresh green beans– go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:

The Ratboys are a Chicago based foursome, worth a listen. I’ve added  songs from their various albums to the BATN playlist.